Revelations
by FactofFiction
Summary: NCIS is home to some of the best investigative minds in the world. Even so, it takes a little while for their coworkers to figure out that something has changed. Establish(ing) Tiva.
1. Timothy McGee

McGee was the first one to see it.

Which probably shouldn't be a surprise considering he probably spent the most time out of everyone working with them directly. He spent hours seated a mere 6 feet from them, of course, he would be uniquely qualified to recognize the subtle shift.

And subtle it was. So subtle, he almost missed it.

Tim happened to walk up to the first-floor elevator at the same time as his Senior Field Agent. They started bickering, as they always did when stuck in a confined space for more than 2 seconds, and when the elevator doors opened to reveal the big orange room, almost overbearing in its brightness and its orangeness thanks to the morning sun coming through the skylight, things seemed perfectly normal. In fact, McGee would have put money on the fact that he lived this exact day before.

They rounded the corner, and he noticed Ziva's head was just barely visible over the cubicle wall. She was already seated at her desk, sifting through emails.

"Fine. We'll just get Ziva to settle this for us," Tony grumbled as he slid his backpack off his shoulder and let it fall to the ground next to his own desk, "Oh Ziva!"

Tim turned back just in time to see her hold up a hand, effectively halting her coworker's next sentence, "I do not want to hear it. I will play no part in your childish banter. You boys work it out for yourselves."

Tony stared at her for a long moment, his eyebrows raised and a certain gleam in his eye that Tim couldn't quite identify. Then he just shrugged, turning toward his inferior agent and pointing, "You heard the woman, McJuvenile. Stop being childish."

"Me? Ziva, would you please tell him that-"

She shook her head, holding both hands up in an almost defensive motion, "No part of it."

McGee sighed, rounding his desk and reaching down to turn on the monitor. He had to have only looked away fro a second or two, but when he glanced back, he found Tony suddenly behind the Israeli's desk. He held out his arm, where a familiar crimson jacket was folded neatly.

It really hadn't occurred to Tim until right now that Tony had on a perfectly suitable black coat. So why had he been carrying around a second jacket?

Ziva smiled as she took it from him, setting it down on the back of her chair before tilting her head pointedly toward Tony's desk. He turned toward it excitedly, taking the few steps necessary to reach his work station with what could only be described as 'pep'.

Sitting on the desk in question was a tall white cup with steam pouring out of its lid. Tony grabbed for it, bringing it to his lips and taking an eager sip. He visibly relaxed as the liquid poured down his throat and the caffeine set about working its way into his bloodstream. He finally slid off his coat and tossed it on the filing cabinet behind him before sinking into his chair. Feet up on the desk and a classic DiNozzo smirk on his lips, he peered across the bullpen toward his partner's desk. Then he let out a content little sigh.

Ziva was looking back at him, her own cup of steaming liquid in her hand which she raised in a ghost of a cheers before taking a sip. Something glittered on her wrist, and Tim took a moment to notice a new tennis bracelet shinning in the morning light.

As you can see, it wasn't a very obvious scene. And it didn't take a trained investigator to know that you need more than circumstantial evidence to convict. They were being nice to each other. So what? She picked him up some coffee on the way in to work. Big deal. He returned her jacket to her because she… what… left it at his place?

It did, however, take a trained investigator to know about when a growing pile of circumstantial evidence was enough to convince a jury. And for Tim, that pile got big enough right around 6 pm on that same day. It was the fleeting look here, the lingering touch there, the seemingly intentional use of keywords like _friend _and _hang out_. Individually, and to someone not as familiar with the pair as one Timothy McGee, might not understand the quiet significance of each of these actions. They weren't _teasing _each other with their intimacy. They were simply enjoying their time sat across from each other at work.

By the time they both turned off their monitors and threw their work bags over their shoulders to head home, McGee had come to a solid conclusion. One that seemed both significant and unimportant at the same time.

Tony and Ziva were together in some sense of the word. Their relationship was changing. Evolving even. And as much as this revelation should have freaked the younger agent out, as much as he should have feared for the sanctity of the team (Rule number 12 existed for a reason, right?), he couldn't bring himself to feel anything but happiness for his friends. And maybe even a little relief.

Because everything had changed, and yet nothing had really changed. And they could all stop holding their breaths, waiting for the inevitable collision of two people who burned brighter than the normal and therefore were at high risk of mutual destruction.

The collision had happened. And they all lived to see the next day.

At least, _he _saw it. Because he was the first one to figure it out.

* * *

**Welcome to my third multi-parter. Well, it will be the second one I'm finishing since I'm updating Chaval while I write this, but you get the idea. **

**So yes, this is a collection of 6 different stories of how 6 different people figured out that Tony and Ziva were together. We're starting with Tim because of course, he would be the first one to notice. But where will this story take us? Who will figure it out next? How? These are all great questions that can be answered by simply clicking on the next chapter. Go ahead. Click it.**

_**EDIT: If you're reading this story for the second time and are wondering why you get a strange inkling that something has changed: you're not going crazy! Something did change! Thanks to wonderful feedback from some great reviewers, I have edited all of my chapters (well, some of my chapters) to improve the flow and pace of the story. Nothing has really **_**changed**_**, things have just been deleted or slightly altered. Have no fear! It is still the Revelations you know and love. Maybe you'll love it even more now. Enjoy. **_

**Reviews are amazing. Reviews are my favorite. Leave me a review. Please? **


	2. Abigail Sciuto

It took a few more weeks for Abby to catch on.

The previous case had been particularly grueling. Child abuse, sexual assault, and a hint of terrorism to round things out. By the end of it, the whole team was tired. And angry. And even a little sad.

So the lovable goth had taken it upon herself to cheer them up. Each gift was selected with trained precision. Sure, the NutterButters were a little obvious, but the vending machine had run out of them a week prior and she knew their absence had been tough on McGee.. Dirty magazines were less mainstream, but she hadn't seen Tony reading one in a while, so she figured he must need some help replenishing his stock. As badass as Ziva was, she always had a soft spot for flowers, particularly yellow tulips. And finally, the hand-drawn hug coupons were unnecessary, and Gibbs would know it, but the thought behind them always seemed to make him smile.

Then she made a point to come into the office early to ensure their gifts were in place when they each arrived. Like, seriously early. So early, she could not possibly conceive of a logical reason why any of the team members would be around to see her, especially after their fairly late night.

So, you can imagine her surprise when halfway through her mission, dirty mags and flowers barely in position, she heard the distinct ding of the elevator, followed by the even more distinct accent of the youngest agent on Team Gibbs.

"-was _not _my fault," Ziva huffed.

"Alright, Speed Racer. Good luck explaining that to your insurance agent," Tony responded, his tone only half amused.

"But it wasn't! The light was green! Who slams on their breaks when the light is green?"

"Someone trying not to hit the car in front of them, who is trying not to hit the little old lady in the crosswalk in front of them," he explained as they rounded to corner. Abby ducked behind the half wall, tossing the remaining gifts on the appropriate desks as she did.

"Well, why was the lady in the street anyway? There is no way she had the signal!"

"No, she didn't. She also was outside at 4 am. Without pants. Courts don't tend to place blame on little old ladies who can't remember to wear pants. Besides, you can't go crashing into someone's rear end at nearly twice the speed limit and claim it wasn't you who caused the accident."

She heard a couple of small thumps, which she assumed were their bags hitting the floor next to their desks.

There was a long pause before Ziva spoke again, her voice much more gentle this time.

"You are upset that I made you come into work early."

Tony sighed, "No. I will admit, I am a little frustrated with your inability to grasp basic American traffic laws. But more than anything, I'm just relieved that you weren't hurt. And you didn't hurt anyone else."

"I am sorry, Tony. I didn't mean to-" Ziva paused, "What are these?"

Abby assumed she had just noticed her flowers.

"Don't look at me," Tony said defensively.

"I was not _looking _at you, I was _asking,_" she paused again, "Where do you think they came from?"

Tony let out a low chuckle, "Probably the same place as these."

Abby could just picture him holding up the magazines and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at his partner.

"Oh, great. Just what you need. _More _sex on the brain," Ziva mumbled, "I do not suppose Abby could have come up with _anything _else to get you."

"You think they're from Abby?"

"Of course they're from Abby. She is Abby."

"But why?"

"Probably to boost team moral. Things have been a little bleak around here lately."

"That would be team morale, Zive. But at least you were close."

"_Whatever. _She probably just wanted to make us smile."

"Did it work?" The goth popped up from behind the wall causing both agents to jump and spin in her direction.

"Jesus, Abby. How long were you hiding back there?" Tony asked, his hand rubbing his chest as if the scare had caused him physical pain.

"Long enough to know that Ziva was in a car accident this morning," She carefully strolled back into the bullpen and over to Tim's desk, grabbing the package of Nutter Butters and tearing it open to retrieve one of the smaller packages within, "Which means she gets a second present to cheer her up."

Ziva took the snack with a smile, "Thank you, Abby."

"What about me? I got out of bed at the buttcrack of dawn to go pick her up. _And _I paid for the tow truck. I'm the real hero of this story," Tony grumbled.

Abby shrugged, stepping up to Gibbs' desk and picking up on of the slips of paper to hand to him.

He squinted down at the card, "A coupon for a free hug?"

She nodded, "redeemable during work hours from today until Christman."

"That's like 6 months away," he frowned.

"You never know when you'll need a free hug, Tony. Use it wisely," She warned.

"Good point," He opened the top drawer of his desk and set the paper carefully inside, "Thanks, Abs."

"You are very welcome. Both of you. Now, if you would excuse me, I have some human bile to test for roofies," She waved as she rushed out of the bullpen, circling around to the little nook behind the stairs and rolling onto her toes so she could continue watching them. Something was definitely up, but she couldn't quite place her finger on…

"Why do you think it is Abby liked you more than me?" Tony huffed.

Ziva laughed as she sat down at her desk, "She doesn't. If anything, I would say she liked you more. She gave you the gift of a hug."

"Yeah, with a _coupon_. Does that means she's only going to hug me once between now and Christmas?"

"You are overthinking this, Tony. The coupon does not _replace _her normal hug, it is an _additional _hug. Whenever you want, for whatever reason. She is not limiting her affection for you, but rather giving herself an excuse to show it even more," Ziva was rifling around behind her desk as she spoke.

Tony shrugged as he sat down and turned on his monitor, "I guess that makes sense."

Ziva stood back up, a small duffle bag in her hand, "Are you not going back home?"

"No point. Abby already saw me. Wouldn't make sense for me to drive you to work, drive all the way back to my place, then show up again later as if I hadn't been the one to pick you up."

"Oh, right. So much for that plan," She replied as she stepped around the side of her desk.

"You're gonna go change?" Tony asked.

"And shower," she nodded as she threw the bag over her shoulder, pausing for a moment before looking back over at her partner, "Do you think she noticed?"

He shrugged again, "Not sure. It is pretty early. There's a chance she hasn't had enough CafPow yet to notice something so small."

Ziva nodded slightly as she considered this.

"Plus," he continued, "It's _Abby._ If she had noticed, she would have said something."

"You are probably right," she ran her hand through her hair before turning toward the elevator, "See you in an hour."

There was a moment's pause as the Israeli made her way toward the metal doors.

"Hey, Ziva!" Tony called.

She turned back to look at him.

"You ever thought about making free hug coupons?"

She rolled her eyes at him, making a dismissive motion with her hand before turning back to hit the call button.

Abby could hear Tony chuckle as she made her way toward the back elevator.

What was it they didn't want her to notice?

She had _noticed _that Ziva called Tony out of the whole team to go pick her up.

She had _noticed _that it didn't make much sense for Ziva to be driving to work at roughly 4 in the morning.

And she had _noticed _that Ziva had grabbed her go bag before heading down to the locker room to freshen up.

But it wasn't until she was back in her lab, reading through her forensic report for the previous case to check for clerical errors, that she _noticed _something else.

Ziva had been wearing the same clothes she had on yesterday.

_Ohhhhh, _she thought to herself as she flipped to the next page of her report, _I get it._

She skimmed over the rest of the report with a big smile on her face.

_Finally._

* * *

**Hey y'all.**

**This would have been up on Thursday. Wednesday even. If it hadn't been for "She" coming through and completely shaking my understanding of the current show canon to the very core. I NEVER thought they would confirm what we all already knew. But now that they have, I hope they find at least one more way to bring it up before the show ends. Whether that be an episode where the characters actually make a cameo, or even just a photo of the happy family so we can all rest better knowing they were definitely reunited.**

**Anyway, the whole thing sent me into a deep hole of reading all the new fics on the episode (because blessedly there have been many) and trying my hand at my own. None of them are very complete, so I won't be posting anything tied to that episode for a while. But I had to get those out of my system before I could get myself to do my final edit on this chapter. But it's finally here.**

**Did anyone guess Abby would be the 2nd? Any idea who could be the 3rd to notice? Lemme see your guesses in the reviews.**

_**EDIT: Hi, this chapter has also been altered. Not much. Just slightly. But I'm just letting you know in case you're wondering. Okay cool. **_


	3. Dr Donald Mallard

Ducky finding out was a genuine mistake.

He was supposed to be long gone, having shut own Autopsy hours before and left them to endure their all-nighter without him. It wasn't a very forensics heavy case, anyway. His presence wasn't necessary for them to continue their investigation through the wee hours of the morning. Really, there was no reason for him to still be there.

And he wouldn't have been, had he not forgotten his house key on his desk when he left. He had been nearly home when he realized and by the time he had made his way back to the office to retrieve them, he was feeling rather run down. So he turned on a single light next to his desk and set about making himself a lovely cup of tea.

Somewhere between the making of the tea and it's consumption, he must have drifted off. Because it wasn't until a couple of hours later, now nearly 2 in the morning, that he became aware of voices just outside of the autopsy door.

They were hushed, but he could tell that one was male and the other female. The longer he listened, he began to recognize the woman's accent and the man's distinct incantation. So he approached the doors slowly, flipping the switch to turn off the motion sensor.

He peered through the tinted glass into the small hallway outside.

They were huddled together in the corner, both seated on the floor with their backs pressed against the brick wall. Each one sported a steaming mug in one hand while the other made some form of physical contact with their counterpart. Tony's arm was resting across her shoulders while Ziva had her free hand resting on his knee.

They were talking quietly as if they feared discovery - or perhaps they just feared that their voices would shatter the artificial calm they had made for themselves in the midst of an otherwise chaotic day.

The old man watched them, feeling every bit the voyeur that many would see him as for peeking in on such an intimate scene. He started focusing on the voices themselves, hoping to make out what was being said.

"-an apartment just off the base. We would be much closer to work. A shorter commute would mean you could sleep in a bit longer in the mornings. Plus, we wouldn't have to go as far to get clean clothes on nights like these," Ziva punctuated her statement with a slow sip of her beverage, which he would wager was tea as opposed to Anthony's definite coffee.

"I get that, Zi. And I appreciate you thinking about my deep hatred of early mornings," Tony responded, pausing to take his own sip.

"And if sleeping in doesn't sell it, imagine what we could do with a few extra minutes to _wake up _before work," She let her hand slide off his knee as she spoke as if to emphasize her point.

"I _definitely _appreciate you making more time for _that _in our busy schedules. But I still think we should look into houses in Virginia."

"And I still think that if we got a house in Virginia we would never get to see it."

"Okay. What about Gibbs' neighborhood? It's not too far from the office. Decently priced homes. And we know there can't be too much crime if Gibbs is still alive after all these years without a lock on his door."

She laughed quietly, and he saw Tony crack a proud smile.

"How would you know that the homes are decently priced? Have you been shopping around without me?"

He shook his head, pulling her incrementally closer to his side as he did so, "I looked it up months ago."

"Why?"

"Because I've been thinking about buying a house for a while. You know, settling down. Planting roots."

"And you thought you might do that in Gibbs' neighborhood?"

"I don't know. It was really just a place to start."

She looked at him for a long moment before taking another sip of her drink.

"And why haven't you pulled the trigger? If you have been interested in a house for a while, why haven't you bought one?"

Tony shrugged, "I guess every time I got close, I thought about Gibbs all alone in his. All those rooms he never goes into. It's too much space for one man. I mean, being alone in a one bedroom apartment is one thing, but to be alone in a house big enough to raise a family… that sounds much worse."

"So you are not just looking to buy a house… you are looking to buy _the _house? The one you want to build a family in?"

He shrugged again, "Not saying I'd die there. I still have stuff I wanna do. Places I wanna go. I've always pictured us living abroad for a while. Someplace warmer. With better scenery."

"And less death?"

"Yeah. Fewer guns, too. But as of now, that day seems pretty far away. And let's face it, I'm not getting any younger. If I want a taste of the white picket fence, I gotta start making moves."

"The first of which would be buying a house," she said.

"Well, sorta. The real first move was growing a pair and asking you out. The house would be more like move 1.5. If you're interested, of course."

She raised her eyebrows at him, "In you, or the house?"

He laughed sarcastically, "Very funny, David."

She chuckled quietly as she carefully moved her mug from one hand to the other so she could intertwine her fingers with his dangling above her shoulder, "You know I am joking. I'm _very _interested. In both you _and _the house."

Tony's smile practically lit up the dim hallway, "You're sure? I don't want to pressure you into anything you aren't ready for."

While his words seemed modest, nothing about his facial expression hinted that he was worried about her answer. Ziva David wasn't one to be pressured into things she didn't want (as long as her father wasn't involved).

"Tony, I may be quite a bit younger than you, but I too want the… _American Dream _as they call it. I am looking to make _moves _of my own. Hence asking you to move in with me."

"I thought moving in together was my idea?" Tony asked as he sipped his coffee.

She shook her head, "I only let you think it was your idea. In reality, I had been dropping hints for weeks."

"What hints?"

"Complaining about the drive between our apartments. Talking about how nice it would be to not have to worry about a change of clothes every day. _Accidentally _leaving my extra bottle of shampoo at your place so every time you saw it you would think about the way we-"

"Okay okay. So it was mostly your idea."

She smiled up at him as she moved her mug back into the other hand, "But buying a house together, that was completely yours. And it's a good one."

He leaned in a little closer to her side before whispering, "I'm full of good ideas. Wanna hear another one?"

She shook her head a little, "_I _would love to, but we should really get back upstairs. Our break was supposed to be over 5 minutes ago."

Tony sighed while she untangled herself from his arms and stood up. He eventually pulled himself off the ground and stood beside her as she pushed the elevator call button.

They stood in comfortable silence for several moments before she spoke up again.

"You know, it could take a while to find the right house."

"Okay," he peered at her over the brim of his mug as he took another sip, "So what?"

"It is just… I didn't put in all this work to have you move in with me in 3, 4, maybe even 6 months. I want us to live together _now_."

"Okay?" he asked, clearly not picking up on where she was going with this.

"So how about this: we go back upstairs and work around the clock to get this case closed by this weekend. If we succeed, I'll make a call and we can celebrate our accomplishment while we throw all your belongings into boxes and move them over to my place."

"Your place? Why don't you move into mine?"

"Because my apartment is closer to the office. And my bed is more comfortable."

"But my place has room for all my DVDs."

The elevator dinged and there was a low rumble as the heavy metal doors slid open. Their voices became slightly more muffled as they stepped inside.

"I will make room for your DVDs, Tony."

There was a brief pause as Tony made a show of himself thinking it over.

"Okay. But only because your bed really is more comfortable."

Ducky moved quickly, ducking and craning his neck to try and get a better view into the elevator. The last thing he saw before it closed was Ziva give off a slight shrug as she said, "It's the sheets. Israeli Cotton."

Silence enveloped the small hallway as it's former occupants started ascending to their desired floor.

The old man continued to stare at the metal doors for several seconds as he processed the scene he had just stumbled upon - or rather - that stumbled upon him.

"Oh dear," he whispered to himself as he made his way back to his back-lit desk.

* * *

**So a couple of people actually got this one right. And a few others were very close. **

**But I'll be honest, this is my favorite chapter up until this point in the story. I hope you all see that I am trying to show the progression of their relationship as well as the stories of how each team member came across it. Here we have a rather large step (moving in together) being tackled near simultaneously as an even larger step (buying a freaking house) because Tiva ain't no fools. They know they got something good going. Also, Ziva getting Tony to do what she wants through subliminal messaging? Classic. **

**So we're halfway done. 3 more people still have to find out. Hit me with the reviews. They make my heart verrrrry happy!**


	4. Jimmy Palmer

Palmer found out via a chance encounter in the parking lot.

Not even the NCIS parking lot, either. _That _would have been too predictable.

No, Jimmy first saw his coworkers acting like a couple in the middle of a dimly lit lot on G street, somewhere between 15th and 11th. There was a Yoga studio on one side, an artisanal bakery on the other, and a little mom-and-pop drug store across the street. That's why he was there in the first place. Breena had run in to pick up a couple of things (namely a pregnancy test. Fingers crossed.) which left the Autopsy Gremlin to sit in the car and wait. And wait. Admittedly, she had been gone a while. Was she taking the test right now?

He had half a mind to go check on her. Then the other half hold him to sit tight. It was Breena, after all. She had probably just struck up a conversation with one of the other shoppers.

And both halves of his mind told him to stay right where he was when he saw three figures turn the corner and start walking down the closest row of cars. _This _was bound to be interesting.

He recognized Anthony DiNozzo Sr. first. Honestly, who wouldn't? The man had such a distinct appearance, such an overwhelming presence, that it was near impossible to miss him. He swaggered his way around the corner, his charming smile glittering even in the low lighting. He turned his head to the woman beside him and must have made a joke because she responded to him with a generous laugh, which was what drew Jimmy's attention toward her.

It was Ziva, strolling right alongside the old man with her arm looped through his. Her hair was partially pulled back, and she had clearly changed clothes since her coworker had seen her a few hours before. Now, instead of her typical office-casual blouse and not-quite-cargo-pants-but-equally-as-practical straight legs, she wore a classy black skirt and a fancy green top. Her heels must have been daunting, considering how much closer to the old man's height she seemed, but she walked with her usual confidence (because what else would one expect out of a former female assassin). She seemed to squeeze Senior's arm before turning her head away from him and saying something.

It was then he realized the identity of the third person, nearly half a step behind his companions and clearly flustered by whatever it was the two were joking about. Anthony DiNozzo Jr. was dressed in a suit eerily similar to that of his father, though he seemed to have removed his jacket and was holding it folded over his arm.

_Uhhh…_

Senior slowed to a stop as he made a gesture toward a car that was mercifully several down from the one Palmer was cowering in (and cowering was definitely the word. He had ducked down behind the dashboard to avoid detection, though it was unlikely they would be able to see him anyway in the darkness). Ziva slid her arm out of his and turned to say something to Tony which caused him to hold up his jacket with both hands and help her slip it on. Once it seemed she was securely wrapped in it, Tony's hands rested on her shoulders for just a second longer than Jimmy knew they should for friends.

It was getting intolerable, this silent film viewing of the encounter. So, the NCIS employee bent down farther, reaching across the car to the passenger side door and carefully tugging on the handle and letting it open just an inch. Less than an inch, actually. But it was enough that he could hear their muffled voices from their place 3 car lengths down. And if he watched them close enough, he could use his limited lip reading ability to piece together what they were saying.

"Thank you for dinner," Ziva beamed as she stepped closer to the oldest DiNozzo and leaned forward just enough to place kisses on each of his barely-wrinkled cheeks.

"Oh, don't mention it. Consider it a gift for putting up with Junior all these years."

The younger DiNozzo opened his mouth, ready to argue… or perhaps to whine. But before he got the chance, Ziva was already beside him, her hand brushing over his shoulder and down his back in a comforting motion.

"And many more to come, yes?" she shot Senior a wink before pressing a light kiss to Tony's cheek, "I will give you gentlemen a moment to alone to talk. I'll be in the car."

She stepped around her partner and made her way across the lot, wrapping herself more securely in the jacket as she went.

Both of the men watched her retreating frame for several seconds.

"That's a hell of a woman."

"Don't I know it," Tony let out a sigh as he turned back toward his father, "I think I'm in way over my head."

DiNozzo Sr. let out a hearty laugh, "We all are, Son. But that's what makes it so wonderful."

"Yeah," Tony looked over his shoulder quickly, as if checking on his partner's progress, "You get my message?"

"Sure did. I put my jeweler friend on notice. I'll text you the address."

"And the ring?"

Senior reached inside of his coat and pulled out a rectangular box, "It's dated. You'll want to get it reset on top of the resizing. Ziva doesn't strike me as the Bezel type."

Tony looked over his shoulder again, taking a protective step toward his father to shield their transaction. Jimmy followed his gaze and saw Ziva leaning against the side of a car 20 some yards away. She had her arms wrapped around herself as she stared straight up at the sky, though he couldn't imagine there was much to see by way of stars tonight.

After determining that she was sufficiently distracted, Tony took the box out of his father's grasp and shoved it into his pocket.

"Way ahead of you. Gold band with a Solitaire setting. Think your jeweler friend can do that?"

Senior's smile shone in the dim light, "Sure he can. Though it may take some time."

"Well, I wasn't planning on asking her tomorrow," the exasperation in the younger Tony's voice was almost comical.

"Why not?"

The older mans' deadpan seemed to wash over his son in waves. Palmer could count the number of times he had seen Anthony DiNozzo truly flustered on one hand. Actually less than one hand. He'd never seen it. Until this moment.

"I don't… we can't… we haven't even…"

There was a long pause as the men stared at each other, each willing the other to relent on their separate causes.

Finally, Tony sighed, "Nobody even knows we're together yet."

"You sure about that?"

"Pretty sure," Tony looked over his shoulder again, and Jimmy had to bite back his laughter at the sheer irony of the comment, "Look, this thing is complicated. We're doing the best we can to navigate, but it's hard. I don't want to go too fast."

Senior let off a slight shrug as he turned toward his car, "Just make sure you're going fast enough. You think I wouldn't give anything to have spent more time married to your mother? Being her husband was the best damn job I ever had. And it was over too soon. Take it from me, Son. Life's too short not to love your woman with everything you've got, as long as you've got it."

Tony nodded, "I may be an idiot, but I'm not dumb. I won't drag my feet. As soon as the time is right, I'll ask."

And with that, both men disappeared around the side of what was likely DiNozzo Sr.'s rental, out of the view of the leering coworker. Jimmy sighed, looking back over at Ziva to find her still leaning casually against the side of Tony's Charger. So much for waiting _in _the car.

Several seconds went by before Tony reemerged and jogged his way across the lot. He practically crashed into Ziva, his hands finding her hips as he pressed her up against the side of the car, her arms finding their way around his neck as she tore her gaze away from the night sky. She said something, and Tony answered with a barking laugh before leaning forward to bury his face in her curls.

The pair was much too far away for the small crack in the door to be of any assistance, so Jimmy tugged on the handle gently and allowed the outside world to be muffled by his metal and glass encasement. A smooth black Royce drove by in front of his Ford, and the couple across the lot waved at it in unison. Once it was gone, and they assumed they were now alone in the parking lot, no lingering eyes to witness their following display, Ziva's arms unravelled from his neck and she managed to roll both of their bodies over and capture Tony's lips as she pressed him harder against the side of the car. His hands disappeared inside the fabric of her jacket - his jacket - _the _jacket, likely bunching up the fabric of her skirt as he pulled her hips closer.

The kissing went on for a while. And Jimmy, as nauseous as this whole situation was making him, watched with horrified curiosity. His coworkers, his _friends, _were shoving their tongues down each other's throats barely 50 feet in front of him, and he couldn't look away. He faintly wondered if this was the sort of thing you needed to see a priest in order to forgive.

From his spot inside of his vehicle, nothing seemed to change. But suddenly Ziva was pushing at Tony's chest and sidestepping to look around him at the entrance to the little lot. Tony asked her what was wrong (at least, that's what Palmer assumed those jumble of words were) and she responded by ducking her head and pulling him down with her. She said something to him that made his jaw drop, and soon he was tugging open the drivers side door to his car and helping Ziva crawl inside and across to the passenger seat. He slid into the vehicle after her and shut the door. Just moments later, the car roared to life and pulled out of the spot, rushing toward the exit with what could be called reckless abandon.

Jimmy watched the spot where the car had once sat for several seconds after it disappeared, trying to process the scene he had just witnessed. He was so lost in thought, so completely consumed by the logistics of an in-office romance, that he nearly banged his head on the ceiling when Breena opened his passenger door.

"Yeesh," she giggled as she slid into the seat, discrete brown bag in her hand, "I didn't mean to scare you. Everything okay?"

He nodded quickly, too quickly some might say, and swallowed as he forced his heart rate to return to normal. He didn't understand how the team put up with all the spying and the stakeouts. He'd done it for all of 5 minutes and already reached a level of paranoia that could not be healthy for a man on his age and relatively lame demeanor.

"Sorry I took so long. I ran into an old friend and we got so wrapped up in conversation I completely lost track of time. I hope you found _something _in this dreary old parking lot to keep you entertained."

His head snapped in her direction, fully expecting a classic cat who ate the canary grin. She must know something_. She has to._ Why else would she…

But her expression was as innocent as ever, and he knew in that instant that he had stumbled across a secret - one so big and so out of his own hands that he couldn't even tell his own wife in good faith. His friend's personal lives were not his to gossip about.

"Mhm," he managed as he turned the key to start his ignition, "Plenty entertained. Never a dull moment in DC, amirite?"

His voice shook slightly, but honestly, he was impressed with his own bravado.

Breena was less impressed. She looked at him for a long time, her lips set in a contemplative line. Eventually, she must have realized that he wasn't willing to talk about it any longer.

"Never dull indeed," She agreed as he pulled out of the space and followed the same path the Charger had taken just minutes ago (though at a much more reasonable pace) and left the small parking lot and the ghost of his friend's private indulgences behind.

* * *

**Edit: I changed and reworked the end part of this chapter like 3 times after I originally posted it, and now I feel like its the best I'm going to get it and it is no longer the ugly step-child chapter of this story. It's about as good as the McGee and Abby chapters now, so I accept it. **

**Anyway, we're now over halfway through our little series of revelations, and there are two more people who still need to find out. Who could be next? and what little situation could our blossoming couple find themselves in that allows this person to find out?**

**Also, lol at Tony thinking nobody knows. Like come on, y'all have not been that slick.**

**I'm hoping that since I finally got this chapter done and posted, I'll be able to soar through editing and finalizing the last two so I can get them posted. I love my conclusion to this little ditty, so I can't wait to share that with you. But until then, Reviews are welcome. Embraced, even. Odds are my next story update will actually be over on Chaval, but I never really know. Like I've said before, I follow the lead of the fanfiction muses. Oh, and my class schedule. Mostly that second one.**

**Once again: Reviews are loved. Until next time, my fellow shippers.**

**(PS because I'm paranoid that my jokes won't land: "I may be an idiot but I'm not dumb" is an intentional play on the whole "I may be dumb but I'm not an idiot" thing. I'm not misquoting, I'm rewording. k bye!)**


	5. Director Leon Vance

Okay, he'll admit it: Leon Vance was _looking _for it.

There were rumors. Scuttlebutt, really. The majority of them were outrageous, suggesting that David was having DiNozzo's love child against his will or that they spent their weekends attending swingers parties down in Maryland. It was all ridiculous, of course, but Vance had been in politics long enough to know that for every overblown, completely ludicrous rumor flying around, there was some semblance of truth. Some small seed of fact backing it up, no matter how small it might be.

So he was on the lookout.

He had started his one-man intelligence mission by finding an excuse to stroll through the bullpen earlier that day, striking up some vague and inconsequential conversation with Gibbs about filing numbers that only proved to make the team leader grumpier than he was before (which was already grumpy, even for him). In the end, it was all for naught, since he hadn't been able to detect any change in demeanor of the agents in question. They were both working and focused, no more aware of their counterpart's presence across the office than they had been for the past several years. He started to wonder if all the rumors had sprung from the fact that DiNozzo had driven David to work for a couple of weeks after her accident. Honestly, bureaucrats have the wildest imaginations.

But still, something told him to look harder. And it was that gut feeling that brought him here: standing on the crosswalk at the end of the day, watching his agents pack up their gear to head home for the evening. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. In fact, he noticed that Ziva wasn't even getting up. Instead, the closer her coworkers got to leaving, the more engrossed she seemed to get in the work in front of her. So when the two men tossed their bags over their shoulders and started heading to the elevator, she simply waved and promised she would see them in the morning.

McGee and DiNozzo disappeared around the corner, and she continued to type away. The Director almost called it done, figuring that there was no reason why one half of the supposed couple would be heading home if the other was staying. Hadn't he heard someone say they were living together?

He was just about to turn away and head back to his office, figuring that if he packed up now, he could still make it home in time to have dinner with his family, but something caught his eye. He looked back down at the bullpen just in time to see Tony re-emerge from the stairwell and walk right up to Ziva's desk, crossing his arms and resting them on the top of the half wall as he leaned into it.

"Are you really going to stay here again?" He asked.

She didn't stop typing, didn't even look away from her screen before responding with, "I am just finishing up some paperwork. I will go home once I am done."

"You said that yesterday. And the day before that. I can't imagine you have another change of clothes in your go-bag. You'll have to go home eventually."

"And I will," she said simply, leaning forward to squint at something on her screen.

"Yeah," Tony mumbled, "Tomorrow. During your lunch break. When I'm not there."

She finally stopped, turning toward him with a ferocity that almost scared Leon from halfway across the building, "What do you want me to say, Tony?"

"I don't want you to _say _anything. I just want you to come home."

She scoffed, facing forward again and pulling her keyboard a little closer, "I am not sure that's a good idea."

There was a dangerous edge in her voice, and Tony seemed to hesitate for a moment before pushing past the warning and continuing to bother her anyway, "Why not?"

"Because," she tilted her head slightly as she started typing, the telltale sign that a woman is about to lay it out there, "I wouldn't want you to feel _suffocated _by my presence. Wouldn't want you to feel like I'm _coddling _you."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Oh?" She rounded on him again, her body whipping in his direction so fast that she knocked her mouse off of the desk, "Then what _did _you mean? Because I've been thinking about it a lot and I am having a hard time coming up with any other explanation for what you said."

He sighed, bringing his thumb and forefinger up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he tried to think through his next steps, his controlled calm contrasting against her rage.

"I made a mistake, okay? I said something stupid that I didn't mean. Shouldn't be so hard to believe. I do it all the time."

"Are you sure there wasn't some level of truth? Perhaps it was a Meridian slip."

"Meridian? Are you trying to say Freudian? Come on, Zi, that's not even an American expression."

She reached for her ponytail, using the few seconds it took for her to tighten it as a chance to calm herself down, and likely keep her hands busy so she didn't swing at him.

"I suppose anger makes me regress. Lord knows I've had enough of it over the past few days."

"Come home," Tony's voice was suddenly stern, but his face appeared earnest, "You can yell and scream at me there. Tell me what an idiot I am. You know I don't have a lot of experience with this. Tell me how I can do better next time. Just, for god's sake, Ziva, come home so we can talk about this."

"Do you think I know these things? Do you think I have any idea what I'm doing? What we are doing? Because I don't."

"Then we'll figure it out together like we always do. Just _come home with me._"

Ziva sighed, turning back to her monitor as if she was going to resume her work. But instead of typing, she seemed to collapse in on herself, leaning her elbows against the desk and dropping her head into her hands. Her shoulders heaved with a few labored breaths, and if the Director didn't know any better, he would assume she was crying.

Tony watched her for a few long moments as if making his own determination as to whether there were tears involved. Finally, he slipped his bag off his shoulder and let it fall to the floor as he stepped around the partition. He took a seat on the side of her desk, his leg brushing against her arm.

And then he just waited, letting her gather her thoughts in her own time.

It took a minute or two, but she finally lifted her head to look at him. From his vantage point, Vance could see that her eyes were red, but not necessarily wet.

"I have never done this before, Tony. Living together. Working together. Talking about the future as if we are actually in charge of it… it is new to me. And we are doing it all so quickly."

"Then we can slow down. It's not a race. We'll go at our own pace."

His calm tone seemed to add to her frustration, as she responded with a long sigh and looked up at the skylight, "But this _is _our pace. And I do not _want _to slow down."

Tony pursed his lips, his expression unreadable to the Director in the limited lighting of her desk lamp, "What do you want, Ziva?"

She didn't answer. Her eyes remained glued to the ceiling.

After several moments of silence, Tony tried another approach.

"Why did you want us to move in together?"

This question caught her attention, and she immediately dropped her gaze to look in his eyes.

"Why did you?"

He smiled at her, but shook his head, "I asked first."

Which was true, so she let off a shrug, "I wanted to wake up next to you every day, not just the days we made it work with our schedules. And I wanted to… I do not know. Cook breakfast with you. Do joint loads of laundry. Clean the bathroom together. I just wanted to spend more time with you."

"More time? We're together for at least 8 hours a day."

She smiled slightly, the corners of her mouth curling so delicately as her sense of humor returned, "I'm a real glutton for punishment."

Tony chuckled as he looked down at their hands, suddenly intertwined and resting on his leg, "You and me both."

She tilted her head as she looked at him, her smile turning into a subtle smirk as she considered their plight. Two stubborn individuals who seem to have set their minds of being together - like - all the time. What could possibly go wrong?

"I still want it," she practically whispered, releasing her grip on his hand to brush her thumb across his cheek. Vance absently wondered if he was imagining the quiet words, or if it was another trick of the skylight that he was able to hear them so clearly from his position.

There was another long moment of silence as the two exchanged a look so intimate that the Director found himself adjusting his tie and looking away. Is there some sort of form you have to fill out when you witness your employees interacting like this? He felt like _his _actions constituted red light behavior more so than _theirs_.

"Your turn," Ziva said eventually, which forced him to look back down at the couple, "Why did you want us to live together so soon?"

It was Tony's turn to look at the skylight, likely in response to her intolerably sultry gaze. It was like a mid-office, no mess version of a cold shower.

He met her eyes again in time to answer, "Because I used to do just about everything alone. But I realized it's all better with you. Food's better. Sleep is better. Sex is better."

She laughed, leaning back in her chair so she could rest her elbow on his knees and her cheek against her fist, giving him a teasing look, "Sex with me is better than sex with yourself? Well, I am flattered."

Tony shook his head, and while he was turned too far away for the Director to see his face anymore, he would bet the agent was smiling, "_I _am better with you. You make me better. So I figured, by logical extension, that simply living would be better with you around as well. And I was right. Everything's better when you're around."

She looked at him for a second before letting out a sigh and sitting forward again, her fingers finding the tennis bracelet on her wrist and twisting it anxiously between them. Rumor had it Tony had bought it for her as a bribe to get her to say yes to a date. Though others thought it was more of a promise, a reminder that they were figuring things out. The director wasn't sure how accurate those were, but he would put his money on it being a placeholder, and that by the end of the year, there would be another piece of jewelry shining in the low light of her desk lamp.

"So you are not feeling overwhelmed by how far we have come in such a short time? You are not getting… _cold feet_?"

"Cold feet? Not a chance. The last thing you make me feel, Ziva, is _cold._"

There was an edge to his voice, one that was incredibly dangerous considering their current location. And it wasn't lost on Ziva, who raised her eyebrows in both amusement and intrigue.

"Oh? What exactly _do _I make you feel, Tony?"

She added an edge to her voice as well, just enough to match his.

"Right now you're making me feel like we should get the hell out of here and finish this conversation in a more appropriate setting. It feels weird talking like this at the office."

He slid off her desk and bent down to grab her bag while she powered down her monitor.

"It does feel strange. Like someone is watching us. Trying to figure out what is going on."

There was a slight lull to her voice, and Vance suddenly became aware that he had been spying on, well, a former spy. Had she known he was there all along?

If she had, she didn't let on any more than that. As she stepped around her desk and turned off the small lamp, he saw DiNozzo throwing both her bag and his own over his shoulder and gesturing for her to lead the way.

"Just to clarify: we're good, right? Our first official fight is over?"

She let out a quiet laugh as she made her way around the partition, "We are good. For now. One down, a thousand more to go, yes?"

He followed her at a slight distance, "If we're going to go through this a thousand more times, might I propose a code of conduct moving forward?"

"What would that be?"

"Let's agree that no matter how pissed off we get, and no matter how impossible the other one is being, we will always go home. No hiding at the office. No sleeping on blow up mattresses in the basement. We always go home, and we always talk about it. Or yell about it. Knowing us, probably that second one."

"Deal. And I am sorry that you felt like I was hiding from you. That was never my intention."

The two agents disappeared around the corner.

"I know it wasn't. And I know you were just trying to give me the space you thought I wanted. But for future reference, I never want space from you. Hell, the past few nights I haven't even been able to sleep without your damn banshee-"

"Finish that statement and we will find ourselves in our _second_ fight."

here was a long moment of silence in which Tony clearly decided that he preferred being _good _over finishing his joke. Then the elevator dinged to announce its arrival, and the two agents stepped inside without another word.

The room fell into near complete silence, only the low hum of the air conditioner and the stray closing of a door could be heard from the director's spot on the catwalk.

"Hm," He murmured to himself as he turned back toward his office doors, "Well I'll be damned."

* * *

**Hi, hello, how are ya?**

**Something I wanna go ahead and address: I came across a story called Clandestine from the author Jae-vous and it's like... eerily similar to this one. I mean it is, but it isn't. It has the same basic idea of all the members of the team finding out about a Tiva relationship in their own little ways, and the first 4 chapters are in the same order of characters as mine (which is like wow crazy weird that we both did that but also super interesting). However, the actual storyline is totally different. I didn't read all of that story because I wanted to get mine finished and completely published so that I didn't accidentally incorporate her ideas into mine, but from what I read, our characters find out in completely different ways and it's just a totally different story on the same premise. Honestly, if you've enjoyed this story so far and haven't read Clandestine, I highly recommend it because I always think it's interesting to see two different author's interpretation of the same sort of situation. But if anyone had read Clandestine before finding my story (because it's been posted for years and obviously this one is new) and wondered if I had read it before: I genuinely just found it like a week or so ago and was honestly shook that we both had this idea and put the characters in the same order. Guess that just means there's some sort of cannon logic to why McGee, then Abby, then Ducky, and then Jimmy would find out. **

**Okay next order of business: Vance listened in on some real Tiva, huh? Do you think Ziva knew he was there the whole time? Honestly, it felt wrong not letting on that she might have known since she's, well, Ziva and it seems like something she would have noticed, but I also don't know why she would have let him listen if she knew he was there so I decided to leave it open for interpretation. Your guess is as good as mine.**

**And we're gearing up for the last chapter! I think I'll be posting chapter 6 (we all know who it is, right?) pretty soon since we're getting to that part of the semester where almost all of my papers have been turned in so my writing brain isn't completely cluttered with academia and I can finally start dedicating some real time to fanfiction. I'll go ahead and finish this story up, then I'll try to get Chaval done (that one has a ways to go and I have a new idea for the storyline so it could be a while before that's totally done), and then I'll probably get started on my very first genuine AU story. I've been playing around with an idea for an actual alternate universe for a while and I think it just might have to be my new story after Chaval is done. Be on the lookout for that. **

**But for now, be on the lookout for the finale of this gem. It will certainly be... a finale. Any thoughts on how our fearless leader might find out that two of his agents have broken one of his rules? Will there be head slaps? Will there be blood? Perhaps there is danger on the horizon for our favorite NCIS agents. Find out soon. **

**Reviews!? How wants to leave me reviews!? I love me some reviews!? **

**But really. I'm like Tinkerbell. I need reviews to survive. Or fly. Or whatever it is, honestly I don't think I've ever watched Peter Pan all the way through. But review, please! **


	6. Leroy Jethro Gibbs

Gibbs didn't notice until it was literally being screamed in his face.

There seemed to have been a collective attitude filling NCIS HQ over the past several months: shit on Gibbs. It started when they picked up the slack left by the CIA when it came to rogue shipments of Naval weapons disappearing off a barge near the coast of California and reappearing a couple of weeks later at the site of a gruesome terrorist attack in Italy. He had been single-handedly responsible for coordinating an undercover op and finding an agent available to take the job that wasn't sitting at a desk in DC. After that, they caught the tail end of an FBI serial killer case in which the perpetrator liked to string his victims up by their arms and legs and reenact famous historical scenes (honestly, just don't ask). And now this: a year-old Metro case that amounted to little more than a string of robberies and some mysterious deaths up until Seamen started dropping like flies with very characteristically distinct drug overdoses. That landed the fearless team leader with cold case files out the wazoo and an entirely too optimistic deadline for when those files would be converted into an actual suspect.

So yeah, he missed the moment when his agents took their relationship from partnership to _partnership_. And sure, that was pretty out of character for him. But you'll have to forgive him for being too busy trying to do his goddamn job to notice much outside of the fact that everyone was making it _incredibly hard to do his goddamn job_.

It wasn't until they'd all but solved the Metro case, tracing all the payments and drug screens back to a sleazy doctor writing scripts on the side for a little pocket change, that he even got a hint that something was going on.

They got word of a big deal: a major merchandise drop that would be taking place in an abandoned warehouse by the docks. The Good Doctor didn't like getting his hands dirty, so he made a habit of accumulating an inventory then dishing it off on his network of dealers to do all the leg work. It was a sure-fire sting, but also came with the near guarantee of a firefight. Pill pushers don't take kindly to cops busts.

Basically, they all had a pretty good idea of what they were getting themselves into.

That's why he overlooked the first incident. Ziva's subtle grasping of her partner's wrist as he moved to stand from his spot behind her desk, perched on a filing cabinet. The SFA had faltered, returning her contact with a calm but weighted look, a curt nod, and the nearly imperceptible brush of his own fingers through a stray curl by her shoulder. It was odd but honestly ranked so low on the David-DiNozzo Ass-Grab Scale that it wasn't worth bringing up.

But then there was another bizarre exchange between the two in the car, where they almost seemed to be fussing over each other, double and triple-checking that their kevlar vests were on correctly and that their weapons were all fully stocked (Ziva going so far as to pull a few cartridges out of her backup-back-up gun to help him fill his back-up before tucking the now useless firearm into the back of the seat in front of her). It was almost like they were _nervous. _

But their anxiety didn't linger for long, because as soon as he brought the car to a stop outside of the warehouse in question, the whole team was out of the car and splitting up without so much as a huffed complaint. Tony went with McGee in search of a back entrance in order to better surround their suspects, while he and Ziva went right in the front and started clearing rooms. They eventually heard voices coming from a large room near the center of the building, and they wordlessly covered the two closest exits before making their presence known to their pushers.

As expected, Gibbs had barely gotten halfway through the acronym before the bullets started raining down and the two agents were forced to take cover behind a conveniently placed stack of wooden pallets.

He and Ziva fell into a routine easily with one of them standing tall and popping off some rounds over the top of their makeshift barrier while the other checked their magazine and caught their breath. Then they'd switch. No words exchanged. No communication needed.

Their fellow teammates, on the other hand, were considerably more chatty over the earwigs as they followed the sound of gunfire to help out their coworkers. Gibbs tuned them out for the most part, which wasn't hard considering the consistent pop and whiz of bullets flying overhead. At some point, he managed to recognize the addition of two more guns shooting _at _their perps and not _away_, so he assumed the men had finally managed to join the party.

He ducked below the wooden pallets again, tossing his now bulletless gun to the side and reaching for the back-up strapped to his ankle. He heard Ziva beside him, standing automatically and getting off several good shots before letting out a strangled groan. He looked up just in time to see her collapse to the ground, her hand flying to her rib cage as she curled into herself.

"Ziva?" He practically yelled, sliding himself closer to get a better look.

"What happened?" Tony's voice came through the earwig, suddenly much clearer and more panicked that it had been just minutes before.

"Ziva, look at me. Are you hit?" Gibbs tried to be quieter, more gentle as he crouched down beside her and ran a hand over her hair in what hopefully came across as a comforting gesture.

She lifted her head to look at him, and took several deep breaths before managing a small, "Hit my vest."

She sounded winded, and he was barely able to make out her words across the mere inches between them, so he wasn't surprised when his other agent grew more concerned from across the room.

"What's going on, Boss?" Tony asked again, barely cutting himself off before asking his real question: _Is she okay?_

Gibbs kept his eyes trained on Ziva for a few more seconds, weighing the still steady hail of gunfire on the other side of their barrier against the painful wheezing sound she made with every breath. She could keep fighting. He knew that much. She _would _keep fighting the second he gave her the go-ahead. She'd finish this out, a fearless warrior to the very end. But even fearless warriors need protection sometimes.

"Boss?" Tony was practically yelling into his ear now, "What's going on?"

Ziva let out a low growl, then forced herself onto her knees. She reached down for her gun, momentarily discarded in all of the chaos, and picked it up with a shaking hand. Just as she was positioning herself to stand, she let out a painful cough, followed by a disturbing gurgling sound that forced her to spit on the floor between them. It was tinged red with blood.

That decided it for him. He reached for her shoulder, pushing her farther beneath the barrier.

"Gibbs, what are you-" she wheezed out before another cough forced her to gag.

"I have an agent down. Southside. Requesting medical assistance on standby."

"Gibbs! Tell me what's happening!" Tony's voice was bordering on hysterics at this point.

"Focus, DiNozzo. They can't help her until we finish this."

There was a moment of tension across the line as the words sunk into the younger man's head, and then the sound of gunfire seemed to double, even triple in speed.

"Gibbs, I'm fine," Ziva tried to argue, though her position on all fours with a growing mass of bloody saliva on the ground in front of her didn't seem to help her case, "It hit my vest."

"I'll believe you're fine when the medics tell me you're fine. Stay down," he ordered, grabbing her shoulder again and spinning her around so her back was pressed against the wood of the pallets. His maneuver caused her to groan deeply, and he apologized by making another comforting pass over her hair as he knelt close to her ear, "Keep your chest up. Take slow breaths. Try not to move too much. Help is on the way, Ziver."

She opened her mouth to argue again. Hell, he _wanted _her to argue again. Anything was better than the way she crumpled against the wood, her hand coming up to cover her cough and coming away with a fine misting of aspirated blood. She looked down at it, her eyes widening in horror.

There was a slight lull in the gunfire as DiNozzo's voice came back over the earwig.

"Sitrep, Boss."

"She's alive and breathing. I intend to keep it that way. Let's get this over with."

All conversation stopped as Gibbs grabbed her discarded gun and stood back up, firing at will as he rounded the wooden pallets and helped his other agents take out the last of the gun-toting drug dealers. The man put up a good fight but was soon riddled with bullets coming from three directions. He fell to the ground unceremoniously and the warehouse fell into a moment of tense silence as he joined his buddies in a growing pool of blood.

"Clear?" An unfamiliar voice called from somewhere just outside of the big room.

"Clear," Gibbs confirmed, kicking a gun out of the hands of what appeared to be an already dead suspect.

And with that, the eerie silence broke to mild chaos. EMTs rounded the corner and ducked behind the wooden barricade, immediately getting to work moving and lifting the injured agent onto a stretcher. A few more came to check on the bodies scattered across the floor in front of Gibbs, but none of them must have been worth saving. Soon they were all crowding around the stretcher, shouting numbers at each other that referred to the vital signs of their patient. A unanimous decision was made to get her to the ambulance - stat - and Gibbs found himself sprinting to catch up to the party as they navigated their way toward the front entrance to the building.

He looked around as they went, each time finding it damn surprising that DiNozzo hadn't found his way to his partner's side yet.

They finally emerged into the daylight, and Gibbs was relieved to see that they had already cut off her vest and there was no sign of a bullet wound underneath. However, the towel they had given her to cover her cough was steadily becoming more pink than white, and that fact alone seemed to be enough to kick the EMTs into high gear. They started loading the gurney into the back of the ambulance, and one of the men turned to ask him if he wanted to ride along.

He hesitated, looking around frantically for his other agents.

She seemed to read his mind.

"Tony," she wheezed out, swallowing hard as she fought against another cough, "Need. Tony."

He nodded, asking the medic to give him one second before turning back toward the building from which they had just emerged.

Gibbs was barely back inside the door when he ran into his SFA. Literally, ran into him and nearly knocked both of them to the ground.

"Boss!" Tony yelled when he realized that the body of meat he had nearly plowed through was not just another EMT, "Where is she?"

Gibbs pointed toward the ambulance, only one of its doors still open as they continued to prepare for departure.

Tony barely glanced at his boss before breaking into a dead sprint toward the vehicle.

The team leader watched as his agent practically threw himself at the closing door, yelling that he needed to go with her. The medics looked at each other warily, asking who exactly he was.

"Fiance," Tony grunted as he pushed his way past the men.

They all looked around, wondering if they should take this strange man's word or kick him out. They decided to let him be, finally shutting the door and peeling out of the parking lot and starting their route to the hospital.

It was several hours later that Gibbs found himself standing in the eerily white hallway outside of her room, watching through the window as one of his agents smiled gently, the action only slightly inhibited by the presence of the clear plastic cannula delivering oxygen to aid in her recovery. His other agent stood from where he had been sitting beside her bed. He brushed his fingers down the side of her face before leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss on her temple. He paused in this position for a moment, as if whispering something to her that caused her to huff with an attempt at a laugh.

Tony stepped out of the room and gently closed the door behind him. He looked up to see his boss standing there and made a quick gesture down the hall. Gibbs nodded, sparing another glance through the window to see Ziva close her eyes and shift a little to get more comfortable. He turned and fell into step behind his senior-most agent as they made their way to the nearest sitting area where they, thankfully, found a fresh pot of coffee waiting for them.

Both men poured themselves a cup and moved to sit on the opposite sides of the little area.

"Sitrep," Gibbs commanded, raising his eyebrows as he took a long sip.

Tony sighed, "Collapsed lung. Caused by a few broken ribs. Minor internal bleeding They stuck a giant needle in her chest, which seemed to do the trick. Now they're mostly just monitoring her. Making sure her oxygen gets back to normal. She should be released in a few days."

Gibbs nodded, "She's lucky."

Tony let out a dark laugh, "Lucky. Right. Can't imagine what would have happened if she hadn't been wearing that vest."

"Good thing she was."

"Yeah," Another sigh, "Good thing."

There was a long pause as they both book another sip.

"I guess this is the part where we talk about it, huh?" Tony asked.

"Fiance?" Gibbs looked at him critically, refusing to let his amusement show in his expression.

He half-laughed, "That was a little presumptuous of me, I guess. I haven't technically asked her yet. The ring's still sitting in the bottom drawer of my desk. But we've talked about it. A lot, actually."

Gibbs nodded, pausing to take another sip before looking back over at his agent, "How long you two been together?"

"7 months."

"That long?" The older man huffed.

Tony looked up at him surprised, "You really didn't know?"

"The past few months, DiNozzo, I didn't know my left from my right."

There was another long pause.

"Are you gonna split us up now?"

Gibbs looked up, "Whaddya mean?"

"Are you going to split us up? Send one of us to a new team?"

He took another sip if only to buy himself some time. He hadn't given his next steps much thought.

Finally, he shrugged, "You broke the rules."

"The rules are dumb."

"The rules are there for a reason. They're meant to protect you."

Tony laughed, "Protect us? And what exactly are these magical rules supposed to protect us from?"

"From days like today."

The younger man paused, wind leaving his sails as he ran a tired hand through his hair.

"Yeah, well. Today definitely sucked."

"I know it did."

"But I'll tell you one thing: it could have been way worse. The bullet could have pierced her vest. Or the rib could have taken a chunk out of an organ. Hell, she could have been shot in the-"

He stopped abruptly, a visible shiver rocking his frame as his mind went to places both men knew were too dark for the stark white walls to handle.

"Look, if you really have to move one of us, move me. Send me to Norfolk or Quantico. Hell, send me afloat for a few months," he paused tilting his head in consideration before shaking it fiercely, "Nevermind. Not Agent Afloat. Anything but Agent Afloat."

Gibbs shook his head, "You're the Senior Field earned that spot. You should keep it."

"Yeah, but I promised…" Tony's eyes drifted down the hall from which they came, and Gibbs could just see the ghost of a memory playing across the younger man's face.

Finally, he cleared his throat, "She got scared. Wanted to stop. I convinced her that it would be fine. I promised she wouldn't lose you and the team. That's on me. This is my fault. I can't let her... just reassign me."

"You telling me what to do, DiNozzo?"

"I'm asking. Begging really."

"And if I don't listen?"

"You'll have my resignation by the end of the week."

"That a threat?"

"A promise," Tony lifted his cup in a toast, "And I'm getting better at following through on those."

And dammit, Gibbs believed that. As he watched his SFA tilt back his head and finish off his drink, it became pretty obvious that the change in his agent's relationship status wasn't the only thing he'd missed lately. He was sitting across from a whole damn new DiNozzo.

Well, new might not have been the best word. He was still _Tony_, no question. A brilliant chatterbox. Unwanted movie quote generator. Master of bad impressions. Altogether a real pain in the ass that the MCRT would be utterly lost without.

But he was definitely different. Older. Mature. Toned down to a level that is almost manageable in the workplace. Looking back in these last few months - the few and far between parts of it that the team leader could actually remember - DiNozzo's jokes had been less distracting. His stories less ear-scraping. In fact, he hadn't been caught snooping through his coworker's desks or flirting with a witness in… could it be exactly 7 months?

Ziva seemed to have toned it down as well. Less brandishing of weapons during their informational interviews. Fewer speeding tickets (that she mentioned… there had been that accident but, well, Rome wasn't built in a day). Considerably less teasing and provoking of her partner in ways that were both obviously sexual and also somehow much deeper. She was - if it was even possible - more focused than ever before. A state of calm concentration that was mirrored by the agent sitting at the desk across from her.

And all of this had happened so subtly, so naturally that it had flown completely under the radar of all-knowing Gibbs, no matter how distracted he had been.

Goddammit. He hated this part.

The grey-haired man stood carefully, balancing his still-weighted cup in one hand as he rose from the plastic chair. He paused, looking around for a trash bin before dumping his cup - plus its remaining contents - and turning toward the elevator.

He was already pressing the down button before Tony managed to speak up.

"Boss?"

"What?" Gibbs asked the exasperation in his voice only partially intentional.

"Where does this… uh…"

"Spit it out, DiNozzo. Cars gonna be here before you finish."

The Italian man's gulp was audible from across the small space, "Where does this leave us? You know… what happens next?"

The LED display shuffled through numbers almost as fast as Gibbs shuffled through his next words, "The rules exist for a reason."

There was a heavy sigh, followed by the equally as heavy crushing of a white paper cup, likely under the frustrated hands of a man who didn't understand what was going on, "Yes sir. All hail the mighty rules."

The dejection in his tone was just too sweet to pass up, so the leader let him wallow in his perceived misery for a few lingering seconds before leveling a weighted glance in Tony's direction, "51."

Tony's eyebrows scrunched, casting shadows over his features in the white light, "Uh… right… you know, I'm still a little fuzzy on the 50s…"

"Sometimes," The elevator dinged as it made it's cinematically brilliant arrival, allowing Gibbs to step inside of its cold metal doors and press the button of his desired floor before reviving his pointed gaze, "You're wrong."

Realization seemed to wash over the Senior Field agent in waves. Short, steady waves that brought his eyebrows farther and farther up his forehead in surprise, "You mean…?"

"I'm heading into the office. I'll swing by later with your files. Any reason you can't fill out reports while she sleeps?"

"None that I can think of."

"Good."

"So this means…?"

Gibbs sighed, holding his arm in front of the door to keep it open, "At this point, your work hasn't been affected. No point in losing two of my best agents."

"Thank you, Boss."

"But DiNozzo?"

"Yes, Boss?"

"First sign of trouble…"

"I'll volunteer _myself_ for Agent Afloat. A-Seahawk-ing I will go."

He flashed a classically Gibbsian smirk as he pulled his arm safely into the car, glancing away from the waiting room momentarily to encourage the closing of the door. When he glanced back, he saw nothing but an empty chair and a barely visible shadow retreating down the hall. Tony was well on his way back to the quiet hospital room and his sleeping partner's side - the place where everyone could agree that he belonged.

And when Gibbs made his appearance in that same quiet room several hours later, that was exactly where he found DiNozzo - chair pulled up beside the bed and head resting on the scratchy hospital blanket. The snores echoing through the quiet halls no longer belonged to the slight Israeli. Instead, she was awake, her fingers brushing lazily through short sandy locks.

She didn't see him enter, and was completely unaware of his presence until the stack of files thumped against the wood of the corner table. She jumped slightly, then looked over at Gibbs and smiled.

"I hear your rules have a loophole."

He shrugged as he approached her bed, "Bound to find one at some point."

"Gibbs, I-"

He cut her off with a stern shake of the head, leaning over the plastic railing to place his own kiss to her temple. He lingered.

"Proud of ya, Kid."

She tilted her head back so her dark eyes could hold his bright blue ones.

"Happy for ya, too."

He turned to take his leave, purposely walking all the way to the door before turning back to the table, reaching into his jacket and pulling out the black velvet box, recently retrieved from the depths of DiNozzo's desk drawer.

"Almost forgot," He mumbled as he set it on top of the files.

Then he really did take his leave, but not before glancing back through the large internal window to see Ziva's eyes trained on the place he knew the box still sat, and her lips curling up in the first hopeful smile he has seen from her in a while.

And hell. That smile alone was enough to tell him that bending his rules - at least in this specific case - might not be the worst thing.

* * *

**Okay. Let's get one thing straight. I'm trash and I know it. **

**Writing has been very... touch and go for me lately. And by lately I mean the past like 6 months. I've had a lot of great ideas for new stories and gone through one hell of a crisis with my Chaval storyline as I decided to take it in an entirely new direction from my original plan and now I'm stressing over whether parts of the new story have been established well enough to make sense. **

**But enough with the excuses. I have finally worked the end of this chapter to my liking (it also changed quite a bit throughout its life on my computer) and I am posting it before I get the chance to change it more. **

**I hope this finale lived up to the hype I seemed to give it! I really do like it and I hope you all do too. **

**Thank you for reading my second complete multi-chapter fic. Your reviews are really what keeps me writing even when I feel like I'm typing in circles. Your excitement over new chapters motivates me every time, so thank you! **

**Stay tuned for more Chaval chapters. I'm struggling with it right now, but I know I'll be able to work it out. And after Chaval, we just might have to get some Tivali fics on here, since there is a chance that lovely little family will grace our TV screens soon. **

**Reviews are always welcome! **


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